Haunted
by Pixelgoddess-the-sequel
Summary: Vegeta and Radditz are mates, kept apart by death. Getting back together requires blood and sacrifice.


Haunted  
By Pixelgoddess

Don't own them – damn it. Still poor.  
Entry for the Saiyan Secrets Halloween Ghost Lover challenge  
Warnings…urm… Death. Lots of death. Yaoi.  
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I watch as he goes through his ritual again, capturing and killing a mated pair.

The Call of Memory rites aren't supposed to mean the destruction of another pair, but so few survive the death of their mate it isn't known what they are capable of.

Our separation has…_broken_… him. The spark that lit his eyes, the pleasure he found in life, even in servitude, is gone. His eyes are sharp and black now, filled with bitter anger and hatred. There is no joy in his life now – even death brings no satisfaction.

I reach out to touch him, but my hands pass through him, making me ache for him in his loneliness. He shouldn't be alone – he should never be alone. I call out to him and plead with him to stop tormenting himself this way – but he can't hear me. He needs to forget me or join me – but this painful state of living stretched between worlds is driving him mad. I would do anything to make him stop… to take some of his pain away – but I can't. Even though I'm always near, he can't see me…he can't hear me…he can't feel me.

He slits the female's throat, collecting her fading life in the skull of her mate. When she is drained, he heats the blood with his ki, the odor sharp and metal as it slowly bubbles and steams. It slowly boils away until there is nothing left but a crimson stain.

He is in so much pain, repeating my name over and over, as if calling me would bring me back. He doesn't know I couldn't leave him – even in death I am at my mate's side. I wrap my arms around him, trying uselessly to comfort him. I want him to know he isn't alone – I never left him – but he doesn't know. He cannot hear me. He cannot feel me.

He carefully cuts the hair from the female, placing it by the thick, black, blood-coated spikes of her mate. Then he ignites her body, the scent of burning flesh thick and clinging, filling his lungs with the cloying smoke. The flames are bright and hot, yet he sits close, the heat and light meaning nothing.

He tortures himself like this constantly, going through this ritual of blood, flesh, and fire every time the pain gets too much to bear. I beg him to stop - to let go or join me - but he won't…he can't. His pride…his heart…will not allow him to until his ritual is complete. Even the child means nothing. I hear him. I know him. The only thing that truly matters to him is me - and I am gone.

He slowly begins to devour the male, beautiful as he lets the animal in him rise, submerging so much of his civilized nature. He is naked, sweat making him glow in the searing heat, the blood of his kill coating his hands and arms, dripping from his mouth as he sinks his teeth into the flesh.

We had a few frantic, passionate moments together when he died. I was overjoyed, thinking we would be together again, teeth grinding, tongues battling, bodies burning as we thrust together. I was complete – we were complete – for a few precious hours before we were ripped apart again. He was alive. My mate was alive and stolen from me. I called to him, desperately pleading with him to come back. He couldn't though – not until he had gotten his revenge on my killers.

Mates should never survive their partner's death. They should die together. To be alive and know your match is gone is too painful. But he lives. He lives through the force of will alone. He demands vengeance.

I understand him. He wants others to suffer the way he has. But he can't bring himself to torture anyone - even my killers - the way he has been. If he were truly as cruel as he has been accused of being, he would leave one of them alive. Alive and alone. The death of both mates is a mercy, even if they don't realize it.

I'm not surprised at his choice of sacrifice, just at the timing. Something has changed. He's more powerful now. I've been asking for justice for so long, but he wasn't ready before.

Each time, the sacrifices have gotten larger, been more dangerous, putting up more of a fight… but not this time. This time he took them by surprise, using stealth and cunning to kill them. Maybe he was waiting on purpose. They would have put up too much of a fight if he had hunted them openly. He let them get used to his presence and let their guard down.

I was with him – watching, listening, speaking to him, demanding retribution. It had taken so long – I was so alone – my killers needed punishment. His first target was the green one. He talked to him – laughing, lying, deceiving… pretending they were friends. His prey never realized it was in danger, dying instantly. His body was left where it fell, carrion for lower creatures to feed on, useless for the ritual, its blood cold and bitter.

I knew his purpose had changed when he continued his hunting, moving quickly to the location of my other killer. I saw the hatred in his eyes and was sure his prey would recognize it and be suspicious. Nothing. The fool laughed and joked, believing they were friends.

I couldn't help myself, demanding, whispering, pleading with my mate to kill the fool. His continued existence was a betrayal of our blood, making the sacrifice of flesh meaningless. I wanted him dead, alone and suffering as I had been. He had ripped me from my mate, causing us both to suffer. I begged for his death.

"Kill him for me, Vegeta."

I wish for one more moment - one more chance - to give him the peace he so desperately needs. To tell him that I love him. That I watch him.

It's not supposed to be like this.

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I can't put this day off any longer. I try to push the pain aside, but the memory of Radditz' voice is with me constantly, speaking to me… whispering to me. I imagine I can feel my mate's hands, touching, stroking… I thought I could learn to live without him, but everyday it just gets worse. He is there with me constantly, a fantasy… a dream… a nightmare… To imagine I can feel and hear him, but not have my mate by my side is agony.

In my mind, Radditz demanded vengeance, but I delayed. Didn't he understand? I wasn't strong enough yet to give him the sacrifice he deserved. I questioned myself continuously. Did he think I was betraying his memory by not destroying his killers and joining him in death? How dare I live when my mate had died by his brother's treacherous hands? I trained, trying to become strong enough to defeat the traitor in combat, but it was never enough. I waited, and planned… and suffered.

When the pain became too much I would go hunting, bringing down pairs for the ritual. As the blood flowed, as the flesh burned, I imagined my mate was close, the flames the heat from his body as his arms surrounded me. It wasn't enough, though, and I had begun hunting more frequently for prey to be sacrificed. It was the only way to feel my mate that close to me.

It was so easy. So easy. I wondered why I had waited so long when I saw how easy it was to deceive these murderers. The Namek was suspicious, but I carefully schooled my expression to appear non-threatening. An instant was all it took. No one would be suspicious at the level of ki needed, believing it was just from training for the androids. I didn't care about that enemy any longer – they could kill the humans, destroy the planet. All I cared about was making the pain go away.

I wanted to kill Kakarott's mate first – to make him know even a fraction of the agony I went through – but I couldn't risk it. What I couldn't do for myself, I could do for my mate – I could defeat Kakarott.

The fool is too naïve and trusting…he let me get close, believing my lies, never realizing he was being deceived. By the time he became suspicious, it was too late, the blade slid in under his chin, into his brain. The blood flowing down the blade, covering my hand, was hot, the scent dizzying. The female wept and screamed and fought, but when it was her time she died by the same blade that killed her mate.

The ritual is almost complete now. The blood is dust, the flesh is eaten… I speak to Radditz as I twist and braid the hair of Kakarott and his mate into a bloody black rope. I wrap it around the bones, heating them with my ki until they glow, the strands of hair curling and snapping as they burn.

"Wait for me, Radditz."

I take the blade, stained with the blood of my mate's killer, and plunge it into my arm, drawing it down to my wrist, slicing open muscles and veins, blood flowing instantly. I grit my teeth, ignoring the pain, and repeat the action on my other arm. My life begins to flow over the bones, spitting and hissing as it boils away.

"Radditz… Radditz…" I breathe easier as I feel his presence, his arms around me, his tail around my waist, breath in my ear, teeth on my skin. He's holding me, helping me, supporting me as my body trembles, threatening to collapse as I grow weaker. His scent mixes with that of my blood, warm and rich, as we join together again.

"You came back," I whisper.

"I never left," Radditz purrs.

I'm not alone anymore. We are together again.

This is how it is supposed to be.

_END_


End file.
